


Harry's Muggles

by Sevn



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Family, Gen, Hogwarts, Muggles, Oneshot, School, Triwizard Tournament, dursley go to hogwarts, fourth task, goblet of fire - Freeform, muggles in wizarding situations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-08
Updated: 2017-03-08
Packaged: 2018-10-01 04:54:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10181138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sevn/pseuds/Sevn
Summary: In which the Dursleys were dragged to Hogwarts before the Final Task of the Triwizard Tournament and it really could have gone worse."...And it was Harry and the Dursleys, standing in the middle of the school grounds.“That,” Harry told his Uncle. “Was the best thing you’ve ever done for me.”..."





	

If ever there were something to happen that would throw Harry off his game before the final task of this wretched tournament, the Dursleys arriving at Hogwarts certainly _wasn’t_ what he’d have anticipated.

The most ‘normal’ people within a twenty mile radius, Harry would bet. And it was probably the worst thing that could ever have happened to them yet he couldn’t help but think he’d gotten the shorter end of the stick.

“I shall leave them to you, Mister Potter,” Professor McGonagall said, eyeing the lot with distaste. “They are welcome to join you at the Gryffindor table for breakfast.” And she abandoned him.

“Boy!” Uncle Vernon hissed, not loud enough to attract attention from the other Champions or their families. “Whatever you have done, whatever nonsense you have landed yourself in, I want nothing to do with it! You get that bumble-, Crumble-,” His face was beyond purple, entering gray at this point. “-Fumbled Door to let us go this instant or I’ll-.”

“Aha! This is splendid Ced, isn’t it?” Mister Diggory, eyes bright and his grin a tad wolfish, approached them. “Here’s the lad himself. Bet you’re not feeling so full of yourself since Ced’s caught you up in points, are you?”

Harry felt quite trapped.

“Ignore him,” Cedric said heavily. “He’s been angry ever since Rita Skeeter’s article about the Tournament. Where she made it out like you were the only Hogwarts Champion.”

“But I didn’t-”

“He’s always been an attention seeker,” Uncle Vernon growled through his teeth. “Rotten boy…”

Aunt Petunia’s lips were purse and she’d not said a word.

Mister Diggory stared, as if stunned.

Vernon bared his teeth in a poor attempt to smile. “Joking!” He rasped. “Joking…” He pat Harry a little too hard on the back.

“Yes,” Mister Diggory said slowly. “Right...Well, Cedric will be doing quite well tonight, I’m sure. Cedric?”

“Er, right, we’d better…” He led his father to the door, sending Harry a half apologetic, half concerned look before disappearing.

It was bit hard to breathe, what with the tension.

Vernon shot the Delacours a disgusted look when one loudly exclaimed in French. The Krums made their exit, staring down their long noses at the Dursleys as the went.

“So,” Harry began, not quite sure what to do. “Do you...do you want to see the grounds or...or get a bite?”

Vernon seemed to freeze, and his eyes turned contemplative. It occurred to Harry that Aunt Petunia might have kept up with Dudley’s diet, even after he headed back to school.

“They’ve got- you know- _normal_ food, right? No, lizard tongues or nonsense?”

“Well, they’ve got some different things,” Harry said, feeling a bit defensive. “Like Pumpkin Juice and-”

“That sounds unnatural,” Vernon hissed. Harry shrugged helplessly.

“They’ve got eggs” He said lamely. “Bangers, bacon, toast...”

That was good enough for a starved Vernon Dursley, as it would turn out. But when they re-entered the Great Hall, They found it empty.

“Oh, Breakfast ended, I guess. We can go down to the kitchens though, Dobby won’t mind.”

“Sneaking food regularly, Boy?” Uncle Vernon sneered.

“Not really,” Harry said tightly. “I get plenty during meals _here._ ”

Uncle Vernon seemed ready to bellow but Aunt Petunia put a hand on his shoulder and his mouth shut with a click.

“Lead on, then.” He grumbled.

Neither his Aunt nor his Uncle appreciated the painting of the pear, nor did they take a small army of house elves working about a kitchen very well.

“Grubby, dirty, little rats!” Aunt Petunia shrieked and nearly bludgeoned a passing elf with her purse. It took a great deal of arguing and calming gestures from Harry to calm her down and eventually the threat of a grown witch or wizard being called to see what the commotion was quieted her.

She remained pale and her eyes were pinched even as a terrified house elf put a hot cup of tea in front of her. “Here you goes M-miss!” She squeaked and fled before the saucer was fully on the table.

Uncle Vernon’s face had turned burgundy as he watched a platter of sausages and eggs float over everyone’s heads to land directly in front of him. He opened his mouth but could only emit what could be described as a high pitch squeak, and clenched his teeth together.

“Is Mister Harry Potter wanting any treacle?”

Harry leapt with surprise that quickly turned to relief. “Dobby! Good to see you, Is that a new pair of socks?”

The elf beamed at him and showed off his lumpy knit socks, bright yellow with what looked like wobbly green stripes.

“Yes Mister Harry Potter, sir! Miss Hermy is leaving them in the halls now, she is!” He looked a little concerned. “I is the only one picking them up, the others aren’t liking them and won’t do it so I am having to finds them about the castle!” He patted his socks fondly. “I is liking them, truly I is, Mister Harry Potter, sir, but I is running out of space!”

Uncle Vernon, who had only just bucked up the courage to fork a sausage groaned loudly and throughout the kitchen Harry could see elves hiding their delight.

“I’ll let her know,” Harry promised, though he doubted it would stop her.

“Who’s is Harry Potter’s guests?” Dobby asked and he stared for a long moment at Harry’s Aunt and Uncle before turning beet red. “Dobby is knowing after all, Mister Harry Potter…”

“Right,” Harry snickered. “This is my Aunt Petunia and my Uncle Vernon. You’ve met before, sort of.”

“What?” Uncle Vernon blustered through a mouthful. “What are you jabbering about, Boy? When would I ever have…” He stared around the kitchen, with plates and platters whizzing through the air.

“Dobby is so sorry Mister Uncle Vernon, sir! “Dobby bowed low and yanked on his ears. “Dobby has been trying to keeps Harry Potter safe and Dobby is not doing so good, not at all! Dobby knows now, he does, that pudding should not go on heads and it was very rude of Dobby! Dobby will bakes his fingers in the oven for it sir!”

Vernon watched Dobby with a growing interest and less anger now. “In the oven, you say? Yes, well, go about it quickly!” He seemed quite pleased and Harry had to grab Dobby by the back of his tea cozy to stop him from going about the punishment.

“Could you get me a bit of that treacle tart?” He said hastily, to distract the elf. “If there’s any from last night?”

“Yes, Mister Harry Potter! I’ll be getting yous a plate!” and he scampered off.

“You should take a lesson from that funny little fellow,” Uncle Vernon said pompously and bit off a chunk of bacon. “Better manners, there!” Aunt Petunia shuddered next to him, and sipped from her tea slowly.

“I’ve already _been_ your house elf, thanks…” Harry grumbled too low for his Uncle to hear.

Dobby returned with the plate of treacle tart and Harry dug into it with gusto, for how uninterested he had been in eating at breakfast he figured it must be the shear stress of the way the day was going already.

“So all these creatures, these...house elves, you said?” Uncle Vernon asked. “They live here and clean, and cook. What’s their rate?”

“House elves is not getting paid!” Squeaked and aghast Elf in passing.

“‘Tis shameful to get wages, it is!” Cried another.

“Is not shameful!” Dobby called from the other end of the kitchen. “Dobby is happy with his pay and days off! Dobby is a good elf and Dobby is _paid_ to be a good elf!” The whole kitchen erupted in angry whispering and arguing.

“They work for free?” Uncle Vernon said with wide greedy eyes. “Pet, dear, maybe we should get one! It can stay in the cupboard!”

“Been there, done that…”

“What did you say, Boy?” Vernon snapped but Harry just shrugged.

“I don’t think muggles can keep house elves.” Harry said. “Besides, what would the neighbors think?”

Aunt Petunia sat her teacup into the saucer with a chinking. “No, Vernon.”

* * *

Once Uncle Vernon’s plate was nearly licked clean and Aunt Petunia’s tea drained, Harry scarfed the rest of his treacle tart and stood up.

“Thank you everyone, it was delicious!” Harry called to the elves and they all shouted their goodbyes. Aunt Petunia waved the one that brought her the tea over and Harry could hear her ask in a hushed voice what blend it was.

The elf smiled in delight and said, “Tilly is making mother’s mistress’ favorite, Missus Aunt Petunia, Ma’am! It is four bits chamomile, 2 bits lemongrass and 2 bits rose hips, a teensy bit of fresh ginger and a dash of scurvy grass is making mother’s mistress relaxed after long day!”

Aunt Petunia’s face went a little slack at the ‘dash of scurvy grass’ but she pulled herself back together and smiled as best as she could manage.

“Thank you, dear. It was lovely.”

And Harry watched with amazement as his Aunt righted herself and led the way back out through the painting of the fruit bowl.

“Now what, boy?” Uncle Vernon demanded, though not as gruffly as he would normally, now that he’d been fed.

“Well,” Harry thought for a moment. I guess I can, I dunno, take you to the uh...Do you want to go see Hagrid?” He doubted it.

“Who?” Aunt Petunia sniped.

“Hagrid, the gamekeeper, and he’s a teacher now. He came to get me that one time, you know, with my first letter?”

Both paled.

“Or not,” Harry said quickly. “Um…”

There weren’t many places one could take magic fearing muggles in a magical castle.

“Oh! We could take a walk around the grounds! Durmstrang’s got a pretty impressive ship anchored in the lake and Beauxbatons came in some pretty, well, pretty carriages. We might even see the pegasi if Hagrid left them in the pasture.”

“What do you mean ‘anchored in the lake’, don’t be ridiculous!”  
“Pegasi, as in winged horses?”

Aunt Petunia’s eyes became distant.

“Er, yes. I think I remember Madame Maxime, that’s the Headmistress of Beauxbatons, saying they were Abraxons, or something. I don’t know. But they are winged. Do you like winged horses, Aunt Petunia?” Harry asked nonchalantly.

“Of course not!” Aunt Petunia snapped though her cheeks were rapidly turning pink.

“Oh, well, if you say so.”

They ran across a few students in the halls. Mostly older students who would be taking their OWLs and NEWTs the next day, after the excitement of the Final Task was out of the way.

It wasn’t until they were approaching the grand doors that would lead to the grounds that someone unexpected, yet not altogether surprising, scampered around the corner after them.

“Harry! Harry!”

Harry closed his eyes and took a deep breath. With a forced grin, he stopped and turned around.  
“Hey, Collin. How’s it going? Don’t you have a class?”

“I’ve got study hall and was headed to the library but I saw you headed this way and I know you were supposed to have your History of Magic Exam this morning-” Harry opened his mouth to ask why Collin knew this but the boy plowed on. “-but you’re exempt and all, then I remembered hearing something about the Champions families coming and I _had_ to see! OH I don’t believe a word of what the prophet says, I swear! I know you’re not looney or evil, you too cool, and you don’t need to use dark magic to win anyway-”

“Err, thanks Collin,” Harry interjected loudly, teeth clenched at the hole his Aunt and Uncle were drilling into his back with their eyes.

“Dark m-m-magic?” Uncle Vernon blustered, puffing himself up.

“Hello!” Collin bounced forward, not at all understanding the danger he was placing himself in. “I’m Harry’s friend, Collin Creevey! You’re muggles aren’t you? I’m a muggle born so my mum and dad are muggles too but not me! My little brother turned out magical and we’ve got our fingers crossed that our little sister will get a letter on her birthday. What’s it like living with THE Harry Potter? I think he’s just wicked, the good wicked not the bad, but you probably know that already-”

“Collin,” Harry placed himself between Collin and his Uncle. “I was just about to show my Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia the grounds. Don’t you have somewhere you need to be?”

“OH!” Collin nodded hard enough to make Harry’s head hurt. “The library! I got distracted and started following you! Before I go can I get a picture?” He whips his camera out of his bag and snaps the shot three times with three blinding flashes and takes off.

“Thanks! Good Luck in the fourth task Harry!”

Uncle Vernon’s got his hand wrapped around Harry’s arm before Collin’s out of sight.

“What this about _dark m-m-magic,_ BOY?”

“It’s not true!” Harry said, exasperated, and tried to tug his arm out of tight grip. “It’s Rita Skeeter making up things about me in the paper, she’s just mad I wouldn’t give her an interview.”

“Interview? Who would want to read about _you_?”

“Everyone, apparently,” Harry replied snidely and finally pulled his arm free. “Come on then, we were going to see the horses-”

“Is it because of... _that_?” Aunt Petunia hissed as the made for the door.

“That? Oh, yeah, because I lived when Voldemort killed my mum and dad.” Aunt Petunia flinched and Harry stared.

“And what exactly is this, this, _task,_ business about?” Uncle Vernon demanded.

“No one told you?”

“We found a letter through the mail spouting some nonsense about a school competition but it was all gibberish!”

The were walking down the steps in the direction of the stables now. It was warm day, the sun shining unusually bright but, accompanied by a cool breeze, it was quite comfortable.

“There are three schools competing,” Harry explained. “Each school has a champion who must complete the three tasks and earn as many points as they can from the judges and who ever has the most at the end wins a bag of gold and pride for their school. Historically, there have been a lot of deaths, which is why the stopped it for uh, a while. Dunno why they started it again.”

“And you’re one of these... _champions_?” Uncle Vernon asked. “Competing in these tasks and trying to win gold? That fellow earlier said his son had caught you up?

“And you said three champions, but there were four of you.” Aunt Petunia added.

“I wasn’t supposed to be a champion,” Harry lamented. “Someone rigged the Goblet- that’s how they chose the champions, a bit like a lot machine I guess- and entered me under another school’s name.”

“Sounds spotty to me,” Uncle Vernon said and swatted at a beetle that land on his shoulder.

“It is,” Harry agreed. “Professor Moody, he’s the defense teacher this year but he’s a retired auror- that’s like the police,” He clarified at his Aunt’s narrowing lips. “He reckons whoever entered my name wants me dead.”

“Who doesn’t?”

Harry rolled his eyes and inwardly scolded himself for even hoping for sympathy from his relatives.

“And this gold,” Uncle Vernon started in a voice Harry instantly recognized, growing up with his Uncle trying to weedle money from clients for his work at Grunnings. “It could be uh, exchanged? For normal currency? Pounds, that is?”

Harry was silent, thinking hard a moment. “No, I don’t think so,” He finally said. “It’s like...uh…”

Think, Harry.

“It’s like reward points! Yes, you can use them in the magical shops but it can’t be exchanged or used for uh...other expenses and the like. Just at the uh, sponsoring shops.”

Uncle Vernon, amazingly, took his word for it. But that could be because they’d finally reached their destination.

The stables were very large, and rather out of the way. Harry’d only been a few times, last year when keeping Hagrid and Buckbeak company.

There were no hippogriffs to be seen, but the Abraxans were in the pasture, grazing.

Harry climbed up on the fence and crossed his arms comfortably. “Well, here they are.”

Aunt Petunia stared at the winged horses with wide eyes.

“They’re, beautiful,” she whispered and she approached the fence, not touch it though. “They don’t even stink.”

“I suppose the don’t!” Harry hadn’t noticed but wasn’t surprised his Aunt would.

“It’s not natural,” Uncle Vernon grumbled but he too looked at least a little in awe of the great winged horses. They were large enough dwarf even him.

“Harry! Wha’ are you do’in outta class?”

“Hagrid!” Harry jumped off the fence and was promptly greeted by Fang. “Down, Fang, down!” He was thoroughly slobbered on by the end of it. “Champions aren’t taking the exams, remember? And my uh, Aunt and Uncle are here to...cheer me on, I suppose.”

Glancing over his shoulder he was greeted by a quickly reddening face of his Uncle and his Aunt’s bloodless one.

“Ah, Dursleys!” Hagrid forced a grin on his face but it was too awkward to be taken seriously. “Er, how are you lot? No Dudley?”

“No,” Aunt Petunia clipped and dug her fingers into her husband’s shoulder. “He’s at school.”

“Smeltings!” Vernon growled. “A _proper_ -” He winced and Harry supposed it was his Aunt’s doing.

“Righ’, well…” Hagrid shifted and Harry realized he was pulling a sled of sorts, covered in barrels. “Time fer me to fill up ther troughs. Only single malt whiskey, says Olympe.” He picked one of the barrels up and tapped the side where a fancy looking seal had been branded into the wood. “Brews it ‘erself, she does. Magnificent woman, she is.” He looked so sad, Harry patted him on the shoulder.

“Do you want any help?”

“Think not, Harry. Bit heavy and you need ta be restin’ up fer the final task ta’night. My thanks fer the offer though. I’m sorry ta hear tha’ rotten Skeeta’ woman is tearin’ ya down. You don’ deserve all tha’.”

“Thanks, Hagrid.”

Knowing it was for the best to move his relatives along now, Harry ushered his his Aunt and Uncle to follow him. Aunt Petunia spared a longing glance back at the Abraxans and followed silently, where Uncle Vernon was muttering under his breath again.

“I suppose there must be _some_ benefit to keeping an oaf that large about...”

Harry sighed.

* * *

Harry led the Durselys all over the grounds, pointing out the Whomping Willow-

“It’ll give as good as it gets, worse even, believe me.”

Admiring the Durmstrang ship-

“Just sort of, popped, right up out of the water. No idea how that works other than, you know, magic.”

And to his favorite spot by the lake where he and his friends liked to skip stones-

“You mean Nessie? No, no, that’s the Giant Squid. Not a bad sort, usually helps first years if they fall in the lake. It’s the merfolk you’ve got to watch out for…”

Uncle Vernon was heaving and his Aunt was turning pink as she followed after him in her heels up the hill.

“You can see Hogsmeade from here, the wizarding village. Oh! Theres’s the shrieking shack, it's haunted.” Maybe he was taking a bit too much pleasure in loudly describing wizarding this, magical that, over there is where we fly on broom sticks and so on, but it was great fun to watch the Dursleys flounder amidst a world they’d denied Harry knowledge of for ten years.

“And what’s all that shrubbery about?” Aunt Petunia snipped, squinting at the Pitch. “Isn’t that a tad _normal_ for your type?”

“That’s the maze,” Harry explained, and his stomach churned just thinking about it. “They started growing it after the second task. We, the Champions that is, are going to have to find our way through it. There’s going to be loads of obstacles. I’m afraid they may have asked Hagrid to procure a few...creatures…”

The sun was becoming unbearable now, and he heard the noon time bell signalling the end of morning classes.

“Might as well head in for lunch. Er-” He paused. Did he really want to bring the _Dursleys_ into a Hall full of witches and wizards? A part of him was positively gleeful at the thought, but the other part was terrified. What if they insulted everyone? What if they made a skeptical of themselves and got him even _more_ nasty looks? It was bad enough he’d have Raving Lunatic plastered across his tomb if he died tonight, but at least it would be a fabrication. The Dursley however, they were _real._ He’d have Raving Lunatic over Freak any day.

And wasn’t that odd.

“I suppose we must,” his aunt sniffed. “I saw those... _benches._ We’ll need to take the ends.”

“Right.”

“Well if it isn’t Scar Head!” Harry closed his eyes for what felt like the hundredth time that day and took a deep breath. Just what he needed. Malfoy, hiking towards the castle from the green houses.

“Well, if it isn’t the Amazing, Bouncing, Ferret!” He snarled back at the blonde. Malfoy was missing his usual book ends, instead accompanied by a harried looking Slytherin that Harry recognized as Blaise Zabini. The boy was staring at his Uncle with undisguised disgust.

“Don’t get too upset, Potter. Wouldn’t want you to have a fit out here in the open. And who are _they_? Have to pay people to come watch you flail and fail tonight?”

Harry didn’t know what he would have done, what he would have said. It had been a rough morning and he would have loved to break Malfoy’s face. But as he stepped forward, he was greatly surprised to find his Uncle had already made a move.

Vernon Dursley was not tall. However, his girth often gave the illusions of largeness and in that sense, he loomed over Malfoy despite the boy having a solid 3 inches on him.

“You see here, BOY.” Vernon roared. His finger jabbing Malfoy’s pointy nose. “I don’t like your tone one bit! I’ll not have anyone thinking my wife or I are the type to be bribed by freaks!” Harry was quite certain this was untrue but he was too numb with shock to point it out, not sure he would if he could.

“I know your type, I’ve met plenty! Useless, good for nothing spoilt types that get off without a single day’s hard work! Lazy! Your father is likely a layabout too, unemployed, busy with his hair, no doubt!” He sneered at the gelled, slicked back hair on Malfoy’s head and snorted.

Thoroughly overwhelmed, Malfoy stared, slack jawed at the muggle in front of him, while Zabini snickered from behind.

“You-” He sputtered. “You-you filthy muggle! Wait until I tell my father-.”

“And what’s he going to do, Malfoy?” Harry regained the use of his voice. “Is he going to do to my Aunt and Uncle what he did to those muggles at the World Cup? Is he going to hide behind a mask this time too?”

Cowed and outnumbered, Malfoy fled. Flushed and sweating, he outright ran back to the castle. Zabini watched with great amusement in his eyes.

“Well,” the boy finally said. “Thanks for that. He’ll be insufferable. Good luck in with the final task tonight, Potter.”

And it was Harry and the Dursleys, standing in the middle of the school grounds.

“That,” Harry told his Uncle. “Was the best thing you’ve ever done for me.”

* * *

The Great Hall was rapidly filling up by the time they arrived. Harry had to shoo a few second years from the end of the Gryffindor table, smiling apologetically as they scooted a healthy distance down the table, and watched with a small amount of fascination as his Uncle Vernon prepared himself a feast.

Harry supposed that he should be happy that there was one aspect of the magical world that his Uncle could abide by.

“Oh bloody hell…”

Harry felt a wave of relief as Ron sat beside him, staring at the Dursleys in horror.

“They actually came?” he hissed in Harry’s ear, not believing what he was seeing. Harry nodded.

“Oh my…” Hermione had arrived, and analyzed the situation before cautiously seating herself beside Aunt Petunia, effectively blocking anyone else from making the mistake.

“How were the exams?” Harry asked.

Ron shrugged, finally looking away from the Dursleys to nab a sandwich. “Okay, might mixed a few up but forget the exams, mate. How’s-” he gestured at the Dursleys.

“Not too terrible...Yet. as long as your brothers don't show up I think I'll survive to face my doom tonight…”

But Harry never had things his way. Fred and George skipped and bounced their way into the hall and Uncle Vernon choked on his chicken.

“YOU,” he snarled.

“Him?” George pointed at Fred.

“Or him?” Fred pointed at George.

“After what you did to my living room, my fire place, my _son’s tongue-”_

“Ah, Mister Dursley. Just the man I was looking for.”

Professor Dumbledore had swept down the aisles from the head table.

“And Petunia, it's been a long time indeed. I have a few things to discuss with the two of you, as the guardians of one of the Hogwarts champions of course. Terribly sorry, Mister Potter, to interrupt your time with your relatives. I'm afraid there won't be time to see them again before the final task begins.” He peered at the Dursleys over half moon spectacles, imploringly. “Why don’t you follow me to my office and I'll have your lunches brought up.”

Both Dursleys rose from the bench. Aunt Petunia was very still for a moment, until she seemed to reach a decision and placed a hand Harry's shoulder. This surprised him greatly, as his aunt had never touched him of her own volition but to give him a spank or haul him out of his cupboard.

“My flower beds are a mess,” she told him, voice full of warning. “And you are to be ready and able to put them to rights the moment you return for the summer.” Harry nodded dumbly.

And they were whisked away as suddenly as they had been delivered, expressions shuttered and backs stiff.

“Blimey,” Seamus said, bewildered, tossing his bag down on the floor. “Talk about grim. Those were your aunt and uncle, right Harry?” he looked over his shoulder as the three left the Great Hall.

“Yeah.”

“Bonkers, if you ask me.” Ron muttered.

“Bit mad, really,” George said and reached for plate of turkey sandwiches.

“You poisoned their son,” Ginny said as she plopped down opposite Hermione.

“It was not poison,” Fred put in. “And he deserved it.”

“I heard your uncle saying the nastiest things to Professor Dumbledore just outside the hall!” Lavender told Harry as she seated herself a few spots down. “Just awful.”

“They sound terrible, your muggles.” Neville said sympathetically. “And I thought my Uncle Algae was bad.”

Harry stared into his pumpkin juice.

“They're not so bad.”

* * *

 

Harry wrung his hands from where he lay, part ways sitting up, in the hospital wing. He would be allowed out of bed tonight so he could catch the leaving feast but he was stuck there until Madame Pomfrey could do one last diagnostic.

He had not been able to sleep the night before, visions of cloaked figures with masks and a stream of green light, passing by him, snapped him to awareness each time he drifted.

The knowledge that he would soon be left with the Dursleys made him feel worse. They had not stayed to watch the final task, Professor Dumbledore had told him. They had been allowed to go home after starting a row with a few of Harry’s teachers, which ones he would not say.

Professor Dumbledore had elected not to explain too much in his letter informing the Dursleys of the tournament's outcome, so it would be up to him to decide how much they would know about what had transpired.

He did not want to think about it,much less explain and to his aunt and uncle who would no doubt disbelieve him anyway, if they let him tell the tale at all.

The doors to the infirmary opened and Collin Creevey scanned the room until he noticed Harry in the corner bed.

“Hi Harry!” Collin chirped and approached him.

“Hey, Collin,” Harry said tiredly. “Madame Pomfrey just stepped out.”

“Oh, that's fine. I'm here to see you!” He rummaged in his bag.

“Aha! Here it is. I made you a copy, since you probably won't have the chance to show your Aunt and Uncle around the school again.”

The photograph was rather silly, Harry whipping his head back and forth between the camera person and his Uncle, while Uncle Vernon seemed ready to explode. Aunt Petunia took up the corner of the photo and was, to Harry’s surprise, rolling her eyes.

It felt odd holding a picture of his relatives that also had _him_ in it.

“Thanks, Collin. I appreciate it.” And he found he really did.

Collin hung about for a short while, babbling about everything that had happened since Harry had turned up with Cedric's body outside the maze. When Madame Pomfrey finally returned to give him his examination, he thought about the weeds he would be plucking the moment he got home and he felt a little better.

And if the memory of his uncle bearing down on Malfoy left him a giggling mess on the way down to the Great Hall, no one had to know.

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Forgive weirdness in accent attempts. My inner voice thinks it's British but it really isn't. I wish there were more fics out there where the Dursleys have to confront their issues with magic so I decided to fling them right in the middle of it and watch them flail.  
> This was one of those 'gotta get it out' types of fics, and I hope you all enjoy it.


End file.
